This forcible abduction, so roughly carried out, was accomplished with
the rapidity of lightning. I shivered all over. Whom had we to deal
with? No doubt some new sort of pirates, who explored the sea in their
own way.
Hardly had the narrow panel closed upon me, when I was enveloped in
darkness. My eyes, dazzled with the outer light, could distinguish
nothing. I felt my naked feet cling to the rungs of an iron ladder. Ned
Land and Conseil, firmly seized, followed me. At the bottom of the
ladder, a door opened, and shut after us immediately with a bang.
We were alone. Where, I could not say, hardly imagine. All was black,
and such a dense black that, after some minutes, my eyes had not been
able to discern even the faintest glimmer.
Meanwhile, Ned Land, furious at these proceedings, gave free vent to
his indignation.
"Confound it!" cried he, "here are people who come up to the Scotch for
hospitality. They only just miss being cannibals. I should not be
surprised at it, but I declare that they shall not eat me without my
protesting."
"Calm yourself, friend Ned, calm yourself," replied Conseil, quietly.
"Do not cry out before you are hurt. We are not quite done for yet."
"Not quite," sharply replied the Canadian, "but pretty near, at all
events. Things look black. Happily, my bowie knife I have still, and I
can always see well enough to use it. The first of these pirates who
lays a hand on me——"
"Do not excite yourself, Ned," I said to the harpooner, "and do not
compromise us by useless violence. Who knows that they will not listen
to us? Let us rather try to find out where we are."
I groped about. In five steps I came to an iron wall, made of plates
bolted together. Then turning back I struck against a wooden table,
near which were ranged several stools. The boards of this prison were
concealed under a thick mat of phormium, which deadened the noise of
the feet. The bare walls revealed no trace of window or door. Conseil,
going round the reverse way, met me, and we went back to the middle of
the cabin, which measured about twenty feet by ten. As to its height,
Ned Land, in spite of his own great height, could not measure it.
Half an hour had already passed without our situation being bettered,
when the dense darkness suddenly gave way to extreme light. Our prison
was suddenly lighted—that is to say, it became filled with a luminous
matter, so strong that I could not bear it at first. In its whiteness
and intensity I recognised that electric light which played round the
submarine boat like a magnificent phenomenon of phosphorescence. After
shutting my eyes involuntarily, I opened them, and saw that this
luminous agent came from a half globe, unpolished, placed in the roof
of the cabin.
"At last one can see," cried Ned Land, who, knife in hand, stood on the
defensive.
"Yes," said I; "but we are still in the dark about ourselves."
"Let master have patience," said the imperturbable Conseil.
The sudden lighting of the cabin enabled me to examine it minutely. It
only contained a table and five stools. The invisible door might be
hermetically sealed. No noise was heard. All seemed dead in the
interior of this boat. Did it move, did it float on the surface of the
ocean, or did it dive into its depths? I could not guess.
A noise of bolts was now heard, the door opened, and two men appeared.
One was short, very muscular, broad-shouldered, with robust limbs,
strong head, an abundance of black hair, thick moustache, a quick
penetrating look, and the vivacity which characterises the population
of Southern France.
The second stranger merits a more detailed description. A disciple of
Gratiolet or Engel would have read his face like an open book. I made
out his prevailing qualities directly:—self-confidence,—because his
head was well set on his shoulders, and his black eyes looked around
with cold assurance; calmness,—for his skin, rather pale, showed his
coolness of blood; energy,—evinced by the rapid contraction of his
lofty brows; and courage,—because his deep breathing denoted great
power of lungs.
Whether this person was thirty-five or fifty years of age, I could not
say. He was tall, had a large forehead, straight nose, a clearly cut
mouth, beautiful teeth, with fine taper hands, indicative of a highly
nervous temperament. This man was certainly the most admirable specimen
I had ever met. One particular feature was his eyes, rather far from
each other, and which could take in nearly a quarter of the horizon at
once.
This faculty—(I verified it later)—gave him a range of vision far
superior to Ned Land's. When this stranger fixed upon an object, his
eyebrows met, his large eyelids closed around so as to contract the
range of his vision, and he looked as if he magnified the objects
lessened by distance, as if he pierced those sheets of water so opaque
to our eyes, and as if he read the very depths of the seas.
The two strangers, with caps made from the fur of the sea otter, and
shod with sea boots of seal's skin, were dressed in clothes of a
particular texture, which allowed free movement of the limbs. The
taller of the two, evidently the chief on board, examined us with great
attention, without saying a word; then turning to his companion, talked
with him in an unknown tongue. It was a sonorous, harmonious, and
flexible dialect, the vowels seeming to admit of very varied
accentuation.
The other replied by a shake of the head, and added two or three
perfectly incomprehensible words. Then he seemed to question me by a
look.
I replied in good French that I did not know his language; but he
seemed not to understand me, and my situation became more embarrassing.
"If master were to tell our story," said Conseil, "perhaps these
gentlemen may understand some words."
I began to tell our adventures, articulating each syllable clearly, and
without omitting one single detail. I announced our names and rank,
introducing in person Professor Aronnax, his servant Conseil, and
master Ned Land, the harpooner.
The man with the soft calm eyes listened to me quietly, even politely,
and with extreme attention; but nothing in his countenance indicated
that he had understood my story. When I finished, he said not a word.
There remained one resource, to speak English. Perhaps they would know
this almost universal language. I knew it, as well as the German
language,—well enough to read it fluently, but not to speak it
correctly. But, anyhow, we must make ourselves understood.
"Go on in your turn," I said to the harpooner; "speak your best
Anglo-Saxon, and try to do better than I."
Ned did not beg off, and recommenced our story.
To his great disgust, the harpooner did not seem to have made himself
more intelligible than I had. Our visitors did not stir. They evidently
understood neither the language of Arago nor of Faraday.
Very much embarrassed, after having vainly exhausted our speaking
resources, I knew not what part to take, when Conseil said—
"If master will permit me, I will relate it in German."
But in spite of the elegant terms and good accent of the narrator, the
German language had no success. At last, nonplussed, I tried to
remember my first lessons, and to narrate our adventures in Latin, but
with no better success. This last attempt being of no avail, the two
strangers exchanged some words in their unknown language, and retired.
The door shut.
"It is an infamous shame," cried Ned Land, who broke out for the
twentieth time. "We speak to those rogues in French, English, German,
and Latin, and not one of them has the politeness to answer!"
"Calm yourself," I said to the impetuous Ned, "anger will do no good."
"But do you see, Professor," replied our irascible companion, "that we
shall absolutely die of hunger in this iron cage?"
"Bah!" said Conseil, philosophically; "we can hold out some time yet."
"My friends," I said, "we must not despair. We have been worse off than
this. Do me the favour to wait a little before forming an opinion upon
the commander and crew of this boat."
"My opinion is formed," replied Ned Land, sharply. "They are rascals."
"Good! and from what country?"
"From the land of rogues!"
"My brave Ned, that country is not clearly indicated on the map of the
world; but I admit that the nationality of the two strangers is hard to
determine. Neither English, French, nor German, that is quite certain.
However, I am inclined to think that the commander and his companion
were born in low latitudes. There is southern blood in them. But I
cannot decide by their appearance whether they are Spaniards, Turks,
Arabians, or Indians. As to their language, it is quite
incomprehensible."
"There is the disadvantage of not knowing all languages," said Conseil,
"or the disadvantage of not having one universal language."
As he said these words, the door opened. A steward entered. He brought
us clothes, coats and trousers, made of a stuff I did not know. I
hastened to dress myself, and my companions followed my example. During
that time, the steward—dumb, perhaps deaf—had arranged the table, and
laid three plates.
"This is something like," said Conseil.
"Bah!" said the rancorous harpooner, "what do you suppose they eat
here? Tortoise liver, filleted shark, and beefsteaks from sea-dogs."
"We shall see," said Conseil.
The dishes, of bell metal, were placed on the table, and we took our
places. Undoubtedly we had to do with civilised people, and, had it not
been for the electric light which flooded us, I could have fancied I
was in the dining-room of the Adelphi Hotel at Liverpool, or at the
Grand Hotel in Paris. I must say, however, that there was neither bread
nor wine. The water was fresh and clear, but it was water, and did not
suit Ned Land's taste. Amongst the dishes which were brought to us, I
recognised several fish delicately dressed; but of some, although
excellent, I could give no opinion, neither could I tell to what
kingdom they belonged, whether animal or vegetable. As to the dinner
service, it was elegant, and in perfect taste. Each utensil, spoon,
fork, knife, plate, had a letter engraved on it, with a motto above it,
of which this is an exact facsimile:—
MOBILIS IN MOBILI
N.
The letter N was no doubt the initial of the name of the enigmatical
person, who commanded at the bottom of the sea.
Ned and Conseil did not reflect much. They devoured the food, and I did
likewise. I was, besides, reassured as to our fate; and it seemed
evident that our hosts would not let us die of want.
However, everything has an end, everything passes away, even the hunger
of people who have not eaten for fifteen hours. Our appetites
satisfied, we felt overcome with sleep.
"Faith! I shall sleep well," said Conseil.
"So shall I," replied Ned Land.
My two companions stretched themselves on the cabin carpet, and were
soon sound asleep. For my own part, too many thoughts crowded my brain,
too many insoluble questions pressed upon me, too many fancies kept my
eyes half open. Where were we? What strange power carried us on? I
felt—or rather fancied I felt—the machine sinking down to the lowest
beds of the sea. Dreadful nightmares beset me; I saw in these
mysterious asylums a world of unknown animals, amongst which this
submarine boat seemed to be of the same kind, living, moving, and
formidable as they. Then my brain grew calmer, my imagination wandered
into vague unconsciousness, and I soon fell into a deep sleep.